


Doctor Jones

by stealthmodeactivate



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Doctor AU, M/M, fuck tags, injuries, yup thats it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-18
Updated: 2014-05-07
Packaged: 2018-01-16 03:41:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1330606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stealthmodeactivate/pseuds/stealthmodeactivate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doctor Jones, or Michael, as he insists, finds himself needing to repair a certain clumsy boy's sprained ankle, but they become inexplicably attracted to one another, so Gavin "hurts" himself on "accident" more just to see this handsome doctor again.</p><p>Imagine Person A of your OTP being a doctor, and Person B constantly faking injuries so they can see Person A.<br/>imagineyourotp.tumblr.com/post/71401230692</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, another doctor fanfiction where I have no fuckin' clue what the procedures are. But honestly, it's cute. Also, I'm thinking about doing a Joelay fic after this one, so stay tuned, but it will probably take forever like usual. These Imagine your OTP prompts work wonders on my imagination.

"Dr. Jones to the examining room, please."  
"Emily, quit with the shit, we're not that fancy here!" Michael shouted to the receptionist as he pulled on his dumb lab coat over his curly auburn hair. He hated wearing the thing, it was restrictive to his movements and he looked too snobbish. If he was president, he would make it illegal to wear these things, he promised himself.  
Emily gave Michael the finger discreetly as he walked past her desk to the examining room, but he noticed. He just gave her one back right in her face and she giggled quietly.  
"Alright, what do we have here?" Michael asked as he ambled in. He always said this; doctors on TV did all the time, so he figured why the hell not. He took a clipboard from the counter, checking it intently, making sure he looked professional.  
"Dumbass here tripped over his own feet and sprained his ankle." Said a voice, slightly annoyed albeit fatherly from behind him.  
"You left your stupid sprinkler right in front of the door!" Came a distinctly British voice.  
This caught Michael's attention and he glanced up to observe his client.  
A tall, slightly intimidating man with sleeve tattoos, bags under his eyes, and dark hair stood with his arms crossed by a young man around Michael's age, who had ruffled brunette hair as if he just got out of bed, tanned skin, and a shirt about two sizes too small for him.  
"I'm your doctor today, doctor Jones, but honestly, just call me Michael."He stepped forward to shake hands with both of them. "Having to call me 'doctor' is kind of fucking stupid."  
They laughed, and Michael grinned. He appreciated when his clients weren't stuck up about the kind of informal way they ran things around here.  
"I'm Geoff, and dumbass is Gavin."  
"Nice to meet you both. Now can you tell me what actually happened?"  
Gavin shot a furtive look at Geoff, who was apparently refusing to tell it for him.  
"Well," Gavin sighed. "Geoff left the lawn sprinkler right in front of the door--"  
"It was at least five feet in front of it!"  
"And so I tripped over it and now my ankle is most likely sprained."  
"Again." Geoff added.  
"How many times has it been, Gavin?" Michael asked, putting on his doctor voice.  
"Uhh..." Michael watched Gavin look around the room, trying to remember. Geoff rolled his eyes.  
"It's been twice on this ankle and once on the other. Apparently they were _all_ my fault, but that's just bullshit."  
"Hey! That rug was dangerous!"  
"No it wasn't! Your fucking stupid self just refused to walk around it!"  
Their banter was highly amusing and Michael found himself smiling.  
"Well then how do you explain the time you tripped me? Is that not your fault now too?" Gavin retorted, a smug look crossing his face as if he'd won the argument already.  
"Okay, c'mon, you know I didn't mean for you to sprain your fucking ankle when I did that. I said I was sorry!" Geoff said, almost pleadingly.  
When Gavin opened his mouth to say something back, Michael took this as his cue to continue his doctoring and break up the argument.  
"Okay. So, you know the procedure for sprained ankles by now, then?"  
"Yeah." Gavin said grumpily, not wanting to go through it again, even though this time it seemed as though it was his fault.  
Michael told Gavin to sit back on the chair so he could examine the ankle.  
"Now, let me see... It seems like just a grade 2 sprain, so all you will need is a splint and some exercises that you can do at home." Michael told them, pointing at the swelling.  
"Can you still walk on it?" He asked, judging by the amount of swelling that he most likely could.  
"Yeah. But he made me carry him for the grade 3 one." Geoff answered, sighing at the decidedly unpleasant memory. "Even if you do weigh like 8 pounds." He added enviously, and it seemed almost true. He was pretty fucking skinny.  
Gavin laughed at this. It was a nice noise, his racking giggles ebbing into little squeaks. Michael found himself staring at the attractive man; his adorable laugh was like sunshine.  
He quickly looked away and down at his clipboard again when he realized Geoff was giving him a suspicious look.  
"So, um, come back in here and we'll get you in your splint, okay? Geoff, would you like to come too?" Michael asked, a small part of his brain hoping he'd say no.  
"Nah, he knows how the fuck this goes. He's a big boy now." He said sarcastically, causing Gavin to give him a dirty look.  
"Alright, so just follow me back here, Gavin." Michael led him back to the other room, secretly enjoying that he could have some time alone to get to know Gavin. Geoff walked out of the room, presumably going to the waiting room.  
"So, how long have you been a doctor?" Gavin said as he plopped down onto the bench to wait.  
Michael scratched his chin and thought. He had taken the bare minimum amount of college you can have to become a doctor and then applied for this job, which he has luckily gotten.  
"Well... I'd say almost a year now."  
"So that's why I've never seen you here before!" Gavin exclaimed, realization striking him.  
"Do you honestly hurt yourself that much?" Michael asked, knowing the answer before Gavin spoke.  
"Yeeeeah." Gavin smiled cheekily. "Going to the doctor won't be so bad now, though." He winked at Michael, who's face turned deep shade of pink even though he laughed.  
"We'll probably be seeing each other more often, then." Michael said, hoping this was true.  
"Most likely." Gavin agreed, bouncing slightly in his seat.  
"Or maybe you should just be more careful and you wouldn't have to pay a huge ass doctor's bill every other month." Michael said, reminding him that he did indeed need to pay for all this. "We don't have free healthcare in this shit country, y'know."  
"I wouldn't mind." Gavin grinned slyly. Michael turned around to hide his smile as he searched for a splint for his ankle.  
"So, where do you work?" Michael asked.  
"Oh, it's a place called Rooster Teeth. We make an animated series called Red vs. Blue. But mostly we play video games a lot." Michael spun around at this.  
"You guys play video games at work?" He said, his voice cracking.  
"Yeah." Gavin grinned. "It's top."  
"That's pretty fuckin' sweet." Michael said, impressed.  
"It's pretty much my dream job." Gavin said, sighing happily.  
"What games do you play?"  
"Oh, lots of different things. Any game we can get our hands on. A lot of GTA, Minecraft, and every new game we can get." Gavin told him happily.  
"This place is actually kinda boring." Michael told him, gesturing around the building. "I love video games more than this dumb shit, actually."Michael mused, mostly to himself.  
"Maybe you should come visit us!" Gavin chirped, swinging his legs back and forth.  
"Maybe I should." Michael said, mulling it over. "So, is Geoff your...?"  
"Dad? Ah, I get that all the time, with the way we act. Nah, he's my boss. But I live with him and his wife and kid, since he works at Rooster Teeth too. I have a separate little house, though, so I mean, I get privacy."  
"He's the boss of the whole company?" Michael asked, intruiged.  
"Nah, just for our little branch of the company. We're part of the Achievement Hunters. Me, him, and three other guys. We're great friends, we just play games, make videos, and edit all day."  
Michael sighed enviously. "That sounds fucking amazing."  
"It is. I'm not sure we're hiring right now, though, but I mean, you're always welcome to come see us." Gavin smiled kindly at him, his eyes betraying a twinge of sadness at his new friend's inability to work with them.  
"Oh, don't worry about it. I have a great paying job in the field I actually majored in. So, y'know, I'm lucky, I guess." He said, smiling despite the unhappiness bubbling uncomfortably in him.  
"Now, come here, I need to get fix your ankle." Gavin stuck his leg out helpfully. Michael took the time while he was attaching the splint to converse with Gavin about games. They talked about their favorites, ones they didn't really like, and the new and upcoming ones they were excited for.  
Michael realized he just liked listening to Gavin's voice. He had to admit, it was rather cute how Gavin said his name: 'Mi-cool'. His British accent also butchered other words, like 'ball', he noticed. He said it like 'bowl' but insisted it still sounded like 'ball', much to Michael's amusement. It was also pretty hilarious to hear him stumble halfway through a sentence and then trail off, apparently just giving up on the words he was trying to say.  
He learned Gavin really liked Peggle, something Michael had never played, and was very excited for the Titanfall, something Michael had.  
"Geoff and I were _so_ excited for Peggle. It's one of our favorite games." Gavin said happily.  
"I've never played." Michael said thoughtfully, finishing fixing the splint on.  
"Maybe you can come over and we can teach you sometime!" Gavin offered, looking over his new ankle splint. "It looks good! Let's go show Geoff." He said, already hobbling out.  
As he limped to the door, he didn't notice the edge of the examining bench jutting out and caught his foot on it, tripping ungracefully. Luckily, Michael was beside him to catch his arm before he fell hard to the ground.  
Michael smiled, barely holding in his laughter. Gavin bounced up brightly, smiling as well. "Sorry, didn't see that there." He patted Michael's arm lightly and started off for the door again.  
"Geoffy! I got my ankle fixed!" Gavin yelled as he opened the door to the waiting room.  
"Thank god, that took forever." Geoff whined, standing up.  
He and Gavin walked over to the receptionist's desk to discuss payment. Michael stood behind the desk as well, hoping to talk more with Gavin.  
"Geoff, Michael said he likes games as well. We should invite him to the office some time to hang out and just faff about." Gavin told him, beaming at Michael.  
"Is that so? We should definitely do that. It sounds fuckin' fun." Geoff said, also smiling warmly at Michael.  
"Yeah, but he's never played Peggle." Gavin said, suddenly serious.  
"What? Really?" Geoff asked incredulously when Michael shook his head. "Well then we _definitely_ need to have you over so you can experience the heavenly bliss that is Peggle."  
Michael laughed, happy that he made new friends. "Yeah! Sounds fuckin' great!" Geoff went back to talking with Emily, so Gavin immersed Michael in another conversation about Titanfall.  
As Geoff finished up figuring out the payment, he turned to Michael and stuck out his hand to shake.  
"Thank you, Michael." Michael grinned and shook his hand brightly.  
"Well, it _is_ my job to fix dumbasses up." He told him. They laughed as Gavin fake-pouted and quickly dissolved into squeaky giggles.  
"We'll probably see you soon, whether it's to fix his sorry ass or to play the greatest game ever made." Geoff told him, turning around to leave.  
"Alright, see you around!" Michael called, waving back at a bubbly Gavin who was walking backwards out to keep waving at Michael. He ran into Geoff though, and tipped, almost falling until Geoff caught him, muttering, "Dumbass."  
Michael laughed quietly, watching the unlikely pair drag each other out the door. He looked down at Emily, who was sitting beside him, and caught a smug smile on her lips.  
"What?"  
"Nothing." She turned away, hiding her growing grin.  
"Oh, shut the fuck up." Michael said, turning a delicate pink. He moved away from her desk, knowing full well what she was smiling about. Michael Jones definitely had a new crush.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. I got distracted (like usual). The biggest distraction was going away to Germany for 9 days, so I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me. Anyway, here it is. *Slightly disappointing fanfare*

"Dr. Jones--"  
"EMILY, NO." Michael shouted, shrugging on his lab coat.  
"Maybe I wanna run a nice place around here!" Emily yelled back through the wall that separated the waiting room and Michael's office.  
Michael shook his head and smiled as he walked out of his office and into the waiting room. He quickly checked his clipboard, not bothering to look at his client's name, just to notice that this was his 5 o'clock appointment.  
It had been a few weeks since Gavin had come in, and everything was back to its normal, boring way again. Michael had to admit that he did miss Gavin, but he'd never say it in front of Emily. She would never let it down.  
He glanced over at her. She was typing away at her keyboard, doing her job wonderfully like she always did. Emily was great, but she could be annoying as hell. Michael reached the examining room and pushed on the door, taking a small breath to begin his opening remark.  
"Alright, what do we ha--" Michael started, but a loud squeal cut him off. The yell startled Michael and he dropped his clipboard on the linoleum floor with a loud clatter.  
"MICHAEL!" A British voice screamed, even though it sounded like 'Micoo', but he understood.  
"Jesus, Gavin!" Michael yelled back, now aware of who the voice came from. He saw Gavin sitting on the examining bench, once again swinging his legs happily back and forth. He was smiling cheekily from ear to ear.  
"Hi, Michael!" Gavin squeaked, happy as ever to see him. Michael smiled broadly at the excitement radiating from him.  
"Hey, Gavin." Michael said, bending over to pick up his clipboard.  
"I'm so sorry we couldn't have you over, we were so busy with South by Southwest and so many other things, like working on the new season of RWBY and Red vs. Blue and stuff for Achievement Hunter, I'm so sorry--" Gavin was cut off when Michael placed a knowing hand on his shoulder.  
"Gavin. It's alright." He told him, patting his arm lightly.  
"I'm just so sorry--" Michael gave Gavin's cheek a reassuring little pap.  
"Don't worry. It's fine." He said again, taking a step back to check over his clipboard.  
"So, what are you here for this time?" He asked, even though he was looking right at the answer. "Nuh-uh. Another fucking sprain?"  
"It's my wrist this time." Michael leaned against the counter to look at him. Gavin held his wrist up pathetically, taking care not to hurt it more.  
"Jesus Christ, Gavin." He sighed, but he was still happy to see him anyway.  
"So where's Geoff?" Michael asked nonchalantly. He liked Geoff, but spending some quality time with Gavin was bound to be fun.  
"Oh. Uh..." Gavin looked down and ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up even more. "He dropped me off. But, um, I thought," Gavin sighed and straightened himself up, looking at Michael.  
"I thought maybe you could take me back home?" He quickly shook his head, before he even finished the sentence, knowing that what he said sounded like an implication of something way different. "I mean, Geoff just gets tired of picking me up and dropping me off places all the time and everyone else is busy today, so I thought maybe if you didn't have an appointment right after this you could...?"  
Michael smiled at him, assuring him he wasn't a bother. "Sure, Gavin. It's fine. So you don't have your license here?" He asked, but his eyes widened at a sudden realization. "Christ, I never even asked what part of England you're from!" He said, lightly smacking his forehead.  
"I don't have my license anywhere." Gavin shrugged. "I just never bothered to get it. And I'm from Oxford. So now you know." He said brightly, gazing at the adorable way Michael's button nose wrinkled slightly when he absorbed the new information. The little freckles dotted there were his favorite feature of Michael's. "Where were  _you_ from before you came to Austin?" He asked  
"I'm from Jersey. You know, on the East coast, kinda near New York?" Gavin nodded his head in understanding. "If you'd have met me a few years ago, you'd have known I was from Jersey right away. My accent was thick as shit."  
Gavin grinned. "Mine used to be a lot thicker too, but a couple years here made me sound more like one of you Amercians." He said the word 'Americans' with mock contempt, as if Brits were better.  
"Good, our shitty country has started converting you." Michael told him playfully. "Now, before we're here all night, let me see your wrist."  
Gavin scooted away as Michael walked near. Michael looked at him in confusion. "I'm not gonna hurt you!" He said, bemused.  
"Yeah, about my wrist..." Gavin started, swinging his legs back and forth. This time, it seemed more like a nervous habit.  
"What about your wrist?" Michael asked, his suspicion mounting.  
"It's- ah, how do I explain it?" He stared nervously at his hand, as if it would give him answers. "It may or may not actually..." He took a deep breath. "Be sprained." He said this last word casually, but it came out as a squeak.  
"Let me see." Michael hovered his hand near Gavin's to examine his wrist.  
"Michael, no!" He jerked away from Michael's hand.  
"Gavin--"  
"Michael--!"  
"Let me," A swipe at his hand. "See your," Another swipe. "Fucking wrist!" His last cry was triumphant as he snatched Gavin's arm.  
"Michaaaael!" He squealed loudly.  
"Your wrist isn't even swollen!" Michael yelled, glancing over it.  
"I fell yesterday! I thought- maybe- my wrist- I- no, Michael!" Gavin's pleas were disconnected as he attempted to take his arm back, but Michael was strong.  
"Hey! Quit! Jesus, I'm not going to stab you or anything! Calm the fuck down!" Michael shouted over Gavin's pleas. He grabbed him by both shoulders, looking him straight in the eyes.  
"Fucking. Chill." He said, trying not to let his temper take over.  
Gavin became a rag doll in his hands as he stopped struggling. "I'm sorry." He said softly. "My wrist isn't actually sprained."  
"Then why did you come?" Michael asked, as kindly as he could.  
"I..." Gavin wrung his hands guiltily. "Since we couldn't hang out at work, I just... Wanted to talk to you." He smiled shyly. His difficulty communicating his predicament was the polar opposite of how confident he was when Michael first met him.  
"Oh." That was all Michael could say as he stared at the ground, processing these words. Gavin came, faked his own injury, and is now going to have to pay a doctors bill, just to talk to him.  
"I'm sorry, I didn't want to take up your time! I couldn't stand it anymore, I just needed to see you." Michael peered up at the adorably hopeful face of the man who Michael had the biggest crush on for as long as he'd known him.  
"I missed you too, Gavin." Michael confessed.  
Gavin smiled forlornly, looking down at his wrist. "So what are we gonna do?"  
"Uh, well... Since there's nothing wrong with you, we can just chill here." He suggested, shrugging casually.  
"Sounds top." Gavin grinned, bouncing a little in his seat. "What d'you wanna talk about?"  
Michael thought on this for a second, sifting through topics. "Have you ever played Banjo-Kazooie?" He asked. It was one of his favorite childhood games.  
"Nah."  
"Never?"  
"Nope."  
"Shit, man, you've gotta play it."  
"Sounds like another date if you ask me." Gavin smirked, enjoying the light blush dusting Michael's cheeks.  
"If you wanna call it that." Michael shot back, smiling slyly as well. Two could play at this game. "Why not come over to play it with me, then?"  
"Fine. When?"  
This stopped Michael right in his tracks. He rarely had a day off with his busy schedule and knew that he didn't have a free day for at least two weeks.  
"Shit. Wait here. Let me check my calendar." He told Gavin, already scooting out the door.  
He dashed to his office, throwing open his door and skidding to a halt in front of his schedule. "One... Two... Three... Four?! Fucking four?!" He said, grabbing his hair violently and pulling it a little.  
As he dragged himself back to the examining room, Emily gave him a quizzical look at his strange behavior.  
"Later." He told her as he passed her desk.  
He loped back into the room where Gavin waited patiently.  
"Three weeks from now. That's my closest open day." He sighed, leaning against the counter across from the examining bench where Gavin sat.  
"Aw, bollocks." Gavin said, dramatically falling backwards on the seat with a small 'oof'. He looked up at the ceiling in dismay. It was hard not being able to see Michael for such a long time.  
He peeked cutely through his arms, which were flopped over his face. He propped himself up in his elbows after a second, looking at Michael.  
Gavin spotted a framed picture behind him on the counter and leapt up to snatch it. Michael gave him an exasperated look but didn't care enough to stop him.  
As Gavin sat carefully back down on the bench, he scanned the small picture. It was Michael and a rather pretty redheaded girl standing in front of what looked like a college dorm.  
"Who's this?" Gavin asked, pointing at the girl.  
"That's Lindsay." He told him. "She's my best friend." He added, seeing a twinge of jealousy pass over Gavin's features. "She studied to be a vet. I've known her for a long time."  
"Oh. So you're not--?"  
"Nah, she's like my sister." He waved a noncommittal hand and Gavin internally relaxed.  
"Oh, I was just wondering, y'know. Just curious." Gavin said, trying and failing to be nonchalant.  
Michael wanted to ask if Gavin was dating anyone either, but before he could think of a way to bring it up, Gavin did it for him.  
"Yeah, Geoff and Griffon go out to eat all the time and are always telling me to get a date so we can double date, but I haven't had one in like, months." Gavin sighed.  
It surprised Michael that Gavin, this gorgeous creature, hadn't had a date in a while. But, he of course beat Michael, who hadn't had a date in almost a year.  
"Y'know, you  _still_ need to come play Peggle." Gavin said, hinting heavily he wanted him to come over so they could play and chill out.  
"The nearest open day I have is the 28th." Michael told him.  
"Yeah, sounds absolutely top." Gavin confirmed, knowing he most likely wouldn't be doing anything that night either. He glanced at and away from his watch, just checking the time, but swung his head back around to confirm what he just saw.  
"Bollocking tits!" He shouted, making Michael jump a little.  
"...Bollocking tits?" Michael said, laughing at his ridiculous made-up words that he insisted were real.  
"Geoff told me to be home 30 minutes ago! He's gonna think we were--" Gavin stopped himself right in his tracks, refusing to continue.  
"He's gonna think we were what?" Michael asked, already knowing what the answer was but not wanting to believe Geoff would suspect that.  
"Nothing, it's just that I need to go home like right now. Please take me home, Michael." He utilized his cute puppy-dog eyes to convince Michael to drive him back to his house.  
"God, fine." Michael rolled his eyes. "Let me get my keys." He quickly stalked out of the room to his office once again.  
He fumbled around in his desk drawers for a couple seconds, locating the key ring with his multiple charms and keys on them.  
"Alright, alright!" He shouted back at an excitable Gavin, who was bouncing around the waiting room. He was like an overactive toddler, Michael thought grumpily. It was hard for him to be around someone with so much energy for long periods of time.  
"Fucking Christ." He sighed quietly and leaned his elbow on the reception desk. He ran his hand through his hair as Gavin half-ran out of the room.  
"Michael, what the hell is going on?" Emily asked, probably confused as shit.  
"He's making me take him home." Michael told her exasperatedly. She smirked again, thinking something different than Michael meant.  
"He doesn't have a drivers license, smartass." Michael snapped, annoyed at her dumb all-knowingness. "I need to take him to  _his_ house." He clarified, rolling his eyes.  
"Like you really mind." She turned away so his fuming eyes couldn't meet her smiling ones. He could still see her shoulders as they bounced with her repressed laughter, though.  
He couldn't articulate any words as he clenched his teeth, trying not to throttle her. He settled for a muttered, "I'm fucking going." and stormed out after Gavin.  
Gavin stood in the middle of the parking lot, looking anxious as he bounced in place.  
"Car, car, car!" He squeaked like a child, waving his hands.  
"It's over here, dumbass. Chill the fuck out!" He shouted over his shoulder as he located his black Mustang right by the front doors. He took his key ring from his pocket and clicked the remote, efficiently unlocking the car as Gavin raced up and tugged on the passenger side door.  
"Let's go, silly!" Gavin urged, buckling his seat belt. Michael gave him a glare, but Gavin missed it as he stared out the open windows expectantly.  
"Fucking Christ." Michael said again, huffing loudly in annoyance.  
He shoved the key into the ignition and turned it, letting the engine roar to life. He quickly pulled the car out of his especially convenient employee parking space and tore out of the lot.  
Twenty minutes later, even though Gavin's house was  _apparently_ close by, they were lost, roaming through street after street of the same looking houses.  
"I told you, it's by the strip club!" Gavin told Michael for the umpteenth time.  
"And I told YOU, I don't go to fucking strip clubs!" He yelled back, a headache thumping against his temple.  
"That's not my fault, now is it?" Gavin argued, crossing his arms. "Just admit we're lost!" He said, his voice growing louder.  
"I did! I know we're fucking lost! You're the shithead that won't admit it!" Michael shouted.  
"You're the one who got us lost in the first place!"  
"Because  _you're_ the one who can't fucking drive! We're fucking lost because you live in a confusing ass neighborhood!"  
"It's Geoff's house, it's not my fault!"  
Michael pulled sharply to the side of the road, cutting the engine.  
"What did you do that for, you mingy prick?" Gavin asked, dramatically whipping his head around to look at Michael.  
Michael leaned his head against the steering wheel, taking deep breaths to calm himself down.  
"Because," Another deep breath. "We need to review our options." He lifted his head up, looking at Gavin with tired eyes.  
He gestured around the suburb. "Do you recognize any of these houses?"  
Gavin took a few moments to look around, squinting his eyes. "Nope." He popped the p, further irritating Michael.  
"Then what the fuck do we do?" He asked through gritted teeth, barely controlling his temper.  
"Uh." Gavin swiveled his head, glancing around. [AN: Where his house is is bullshit since I'm not a stalker and don't actually know where he lives.] "That house is 390, and I'm 855, so we can just follow the numbers!" He concluded, turning back around to smile at a fuming Michael.  
Michael opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again, but instead just made a small angry noise so as not to start another yelling match. He closed it with a snap and started the car once more.  
"See, we could have done this earlier!" Gavin chirped, settling back in his seat, looking pleased with himself.  
"Shut the fuck up." Michael growled, pulling away in the direction of increasing house numbers.  
"600... 700... 800!" Gavin squeaked, seeing the start of his block. "Down this street, Michael!"  
"I know." Michael grumbled quietly.  
"Yeah, there's our neighbors, and the Fredricks, aaaaand our house!" Gavin pointed enthusiastically at Geoff's house.  
Michael pulled slowly into Geoff's driveway, still feeling ruffled but pleased they finally made it there.  
Gavin clambered out of the car ungracefully as they rolled to a stop. He paused a few steps from the door, looking back at Michael.  
"Well come on, you donut." He said, as if it was the most obvious thing that he should join him.  
"What?" Michael said, leaning his head out the window. "Why am I coming in?"  
"You have to meet Millie and Griffon!" He said, waving his hands in a beckoning manner.  
"Why-- I shouldn't even ask anymore." He grumbled, climbing out of the car too.  
Gavin waited expectantly on the porch, smiling widely.  
"Now, Geoff might be a bit pissy since he doesn't know why I was late, but we can explain it alright." He said, opening the front door.  
"Sure." Michael replied nervously. He didn't want Geoff to think they were late because they were banging or something.  
"Where have you been?" A deep voice rumbled as soon as they stepped foot through the doorway. Geoff stood by the door with his arms crossed; Michael was reminded forcibly of the moment in Harry Potter where the Weasleys and Harry walk into their house just to be scolded by a fuming Mrs. Weasley.  
"We talked for too long, so when we realized the time, we immediately left. Then we got lost so it took quite a long time to get here." Gavin explained hurriedly, hoping to convince Geoff of his truthfulness.  
"Yes, sir, it's my fault. I got us lost in your neighborhood." Michael admitted, trying to take some of the blame.  
Geoff looked skeptically at the both of them, sizing up the honesty of the situation.  
"Fine." He answered, uncrossing his arms. He let them in, closing the door as they entered the front room. It was decorated beautifully with serval wood carvings and paintings that contrasted with the dark mahogany floors.  
"These carvings are Griffon's. She creates them for a living." Gavin beamed proudly at them.  
"They're very nice." Michael murmured, looking at one that was carved into a heart with a knife through it, like the one in Snow White.  
"Hi, Griffon!" Gavin said, and Michael looked up at the lady who had just walked in the room. She had blonde hair that was shaved on one side, a septum ring, and sleeve tattoos like Geoff did.  
"It's very nice to meet you, Michael. Geoff and Gavin told me about you." She smiled brightly at him, sticking out her hand for him to shake.  
"It's nice to meet you as well." He shook her hand. She had a strong, although gentle, grip. "Your carvings are wonderful." He commented, gesturing around to them.  
"Thanks. I use my chainsaw for nearly all of them." A little girl with short brunette hair and Geoff's eyes pranced into the room.  
"This is Millie." Griffon put her arm around her, introducing her to Michael.  
"Hello." He said to her, smiling kindly.  
"Hi." Millie said somewhat quietly, but confidently, with her dad's outgoing nature.  
"So, Geoff told me you like video games too." Griffon said to Michael.  
"Yeah--"  
"But he's never played Peggle." Gavin interrupted, turning serious.  
Griffon rolled her eyes. "These boys are obsessed with Peggle." She told Michael, but she ruffled Gavin's hair fondly. "I honestly don't really see what the attraction is."  
"We need to have you play Peggle." Geoff told him, speaking for the first time since they had come in.  
"Why don't we just do it now, then?" Gavin suggested, smiling exuberantly.  
"Well, there are things at work--"  
"Great! Let's go, then!" Gavin said, taking Michael's wrist and pulling him to the sitting room.  
"Gavin." Griffon said reproachfully, noticing the hesitant look on Michael's face.  
"Griff, come on! We just wanna play Peggle for a little while." He replied in a whiny voice.  
"Yeah, c'mon, Griff." Geoff chimed in, walking next to Gavin and Michael.  
"Michael probably has work to do still. He's a doctor, remember?" She said, putting her hands on her hips.  
"It's fine. Work can wait." Michael said, deciding on the spot that he would rather be here than at his boring job.  
"Okay, just--" Griffon started, but she was cut off by a loud squeal from Gavin.  
"Yeah! Let's go play Peggle!" Gavin said joyously, dragging Michael with him to the living room once more.  
Millie followed along. She, Michael guessed, probably knew how to play, seeing as her dad and his friend loved it so much.  
The first ten minutes were just Geoff and Gavin helping Michael get the hang of playing it and Griffon and Millie sitting back on the couch, laughing occasionally when one of them did something dumb.  
After a while, Griffon told them she was going to start supper and Millie asked if she could play too. Geoff obliged, and she was surprisingly good.  
They had their delicious dinner of beef stew, during which Michael learned a lot about his new friends, everything from just their last name to what each of their favorite types of alcohol were.  
When they finished their meal and conversations a couple hours later, drinks were cracked. Gavin claimed that they were called bevs, which Michael thought was ridiculous, although he found himself later calling them that as well. The name stuck, and Michael decided unconsciously to keep calling them bevs.  
Michael had to limit his amount of alcohol intake so he wouldn't get arrested or stupidly kill himself on his way home, though. For this reason, he stopped drinking after a couple beers, using the small bit of self-restraint that he had.  
Around 11 pm that night, Michael had to pry himself away from the TV and a clingy, whiny, semi-drunk Gavin. Michael insisted adamantly that he would be back as soon as he could get a free day, but Gavin wouldn't listen. Gav finally let it go when Geoff said something teasingly about him having a crush.  
Michael saw this as his chance to get out and politely thanked them for dinner and a fun time and left. He drove himself home in a timely fashion, making time to do his usual night chores such as showering and checking his voicemail.  
One thing he had neglected to do throughout the night was call Emily and tell her he wouldn't be back for work. He realized his mistake as he listened guiltily to the 4 flustered messages she had left him on his home phone and the 6 on his cell phone, which he must have left in the car while at Geoff's.  
He called her home phone, and she thankfully picked up. He explained what had happened, and she understood, but he thought he could hear the smirk in her voice again. This bugged him, so he ended the call quickly so as not to start yelling at her.  
He collapsed wearily into his bed sometime past midnight that night, exhausted from his day of doctoring and the time spent after work with his new friends.  
He closed his eyes, and was asleep as soon as he turned off his bedside lamp.


	3. Chapter 3

The intercom clicked overhead. Michael took a large breath, and shouted before Emily's voice could come on over the PA.

"EMILY, I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD." His voice cut through the wall and he could hear her laugh over the intercom before she took her finger off the button.

"Asshole to the examining room, please." She said cheekily, the resounding sound of the overhead speaker echoing through the office.

"Fuck you, Emily." Michael said, poking his head out of his office, but he was laughing too.

"Love you too." She replied in a sing-songy voice, twisting her head back to smile at him. He stepped out into the waiting room, sidling over to Emily's desk to talk to her.

"So, what do we got for today?" He asked, leaning over her shoulder to look at the schedule on the computer. "No. Fucking. Way." He was glad he checked the schedule before he got into the examining room. He didn't want to be bombarded with the British chaos that was Gavin fucking Free unexpectedly again.

"What the hell is his problem now?" His voice cracked on the last word, confusion and slight annoyance taking over his features.

"Uh, it says for an ankle sprain. Grade 2 this time, though." She replied, sighing in unison with Michael.

"Alright. I guess I should go check on dumbass now." He straightened up with a final adjustment to his lab coat and walked slowly over to the door leading to the examining room.

He was about to push it open, but he heard raised voices resounding from inside and stopped with his hand hovering over the handle.

"No, I'm not gonna tell him, you pleb!"

"Why not? Do you really wanna keep faking these injuries for the rest of your life just to see him?"

A beat of silence followed this question.

"I don't know what you're talking--"

"Yes, you do, dumbass. Don't act so innocent."

"Okay, but how am I supposed to tell him?"

"Tell me what?" Michael opened the door, hoping that they really were talking about him or he'd look like a fucking idiot.

"Uh," Gavin said, clearly surprised that he had heard them.

"Well, time for me to go!" Geoff said, already hurrying out the door.

"Geoff- Agh." Gavin tried futilely to call him back, but Geoff was already at the exit, his laughter reaching their ears as he pulled open the doors and strolled out into the parking lot.

"So?" Michael said, cocking an eyebrow and crossing his arms expectantly.

"Well, see, the thing is..." Gavin said nervously, running his hands through his already messy hair.

"Go on." "I guess I've been faking these injuries and crap because... I like seeing you?" He said the last part as a question, which unnerved Michael.

"You've been here three times because you like seeing me? You're fucking nuts." Michael replied, shaking his head.

"Well, the first time was an actual sprain, but that's when I figured I liked seeing you." Gavin smiled hopefully, but his eyes hinted there was something else.

"And?"

"And what?"

"There's something else. I can tell."

Gavin rubbed the back of his neck, a sure sign that he was getting nervous.

"I actually, kinda..." Gavin's voice trailed off before the last words reached Michael's ears.

"You kinda what?" Michael said, his suspicion mounting.

"...Like you." His face was as red as a fucking tomato, Michael thought. He can't mean- oh shit, he means he actually _likes_  me. This was like fucking junior high all over again.

"Shit." Michael said, eyes wide, looking at his feet. It was silent for a second or two, something that disconcerted Gavin: there was rarely a time when neither of them were talking.

"I--" Gavin started, but he was abruptly cut off by Michael's lips crashing against his.

Gavin's startled eyes stayed open only for a second until he melted into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Michael's neck, grateful for the confirmation. Michael placed his hands hesitantly on Gavin's waist. He didn't really want to do this here, since the threat of Emily, but more especially Geoff, walking in was looming over their heads.

He pulled away and leaned his forehead against Gavin's, smiling at his elated expression.

"Does that mean you like me too?"

"I'm surprised you didn't get one of your friends to ask me out." Michael commented sarcastically, smirking at Gavin's bemused expression.

"What?"

"You're acting like you're in middle school." Gavin just gave him an even more quizzical look.

"How?"

"In middle school, you say stupid shit like that and just are weird around the people you like. It's a kid thing. It - never mind." He shook his head, giving up on the attempt to clue him in, and instead just grinned coyly at Gavin.

"Yeah, boi, I like you."

"Oh." Gavin sighed, relieved, not fully understanding what Michael had been talking about earlier.

"So, you wanna go back in the storeroom and fix your ankle?" Michael grinned devilishly, leaning closer to Gavin.

"But my ankle isn't actually sprained this time - Michael!" His confusion ended in a squeal as Michael picked him up bridal -style and carried him to the storeroom door, using his free hand to unlock it with one sweaty palm.

"M-Michael?" Gavin's eyes were wide as the gears slowly whirred in his head. Oh, right, "fix his ankle". The realization dawned upon Gavin, and his mouth formed a perfect 'o'.

"Yeah, that's right," Michael said, hungry eyes sweeping over Gavin's face. "Get ready for me."

This time, Gavin grinned back at the mischievous smile Michael gave him.

"I've been ready since the day we met, Michael."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dude, that one was super short compared to the others. I wanted to wrap it up, honestly, because yolo, and also I'm out of ideas. Tbh, I can see some really cute fan art coming out of this. Please leave a like and comment if you want, it helps me out more than you know. Thanks for reading, love!


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